


No Air

by Kiiyah



Series: ~ Ficelets Collection ~ K-Pop Edition [2]
Category: Block B
Genre: Depression, Gen, Helplessness, ahh who knows, depression is my life sadly, does it really get better?, hidden depression, just contemplation at its lowest, no relationships - Freeform, oh well, that feeling is a burden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 01:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14124819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiyah/pseuds/Kiiyah
Summary: It's midnight. Tell me, what else is it really good for, other than depressive ruminating?Glumly,  Jiho's worries extend far into the night.





	No Air

Sometimes, saying he was depressed felt like more of an excuse than an actual illness.

 

Like he was running away and not actually dealing with his problems.

 

That’s the problem though. He was facing his problems, but not finding any reasonable source of comfort or unbreakable security from the outcomes.

 

Nothing really made since. Jiho was terrified, scared and confused all at once, and there wasn’t really a way to explain it. No wonder he hadn’t told a soul-- his insidious train of thought caused him to go through dozens of explanations, with each one sounding as terrible as the one before it. The psychologist would deemed him crazier with every word that came out of his mouth.

 

He like to personalize things, but this was one thing he didn’t want-- his own little hell being tailored to him with each passing day.

 

It was painstakingly difficult to deal with himself in this moment, laying under the covers and ruminating about past mistakes and future disasters-- a habit which has become daily routine. Not to mention the eerie silence and the unyielding darkness, which has essentially morphed him into and 5-year-old boy, crying for comfort, and the presence of another human. At this moment, he wished he’d thought twice about moving from the dorm; it really gave him so peace, one he’d never noticed when he was still living there.

 

Jiho turned his body, positioning himself directly in the moonlight of his room’s window. Was everyone who has depression like this? Did everyone feel this same abysmal sadness every time he/she walked in the light of day, hiding until they went to bed and felt the full weight of their worries? Somehow this did nothing to calm his fears, only worsen them.

 

That was probably the point. Anything his brain thought was probably to further his suffering, not lessen it. Or else, he wouldn’t be in this position in the first place.

 

He pulled the blankets tighter around his figure. The already frigid air suddenly felt about ten times colder.

 

Maybe he was just being melodramatic, and seeing life in a distorted fashion, Jiho didn’t know anymore.

 

Jiho remembers when Jaehyo came to him a year or two ago with the same affliction, and how he recalls speaking to him, getting him to let loose so they could find a solution. For Jaehyo, it was more than just being camera shy, or people focusing on his looks, it was something like a tunnel to his insecurities. Albeit, Jaehyo was a little more eloquent than he is at explaining his emotions, but that was the gist of it.

 

It wasn’t as bad for him then, at least not how it is now-- but he didn’t dream of telling Jaehyo they share the same illness, as it likely wouldn’t have helped him at all.

 

Jaehyo was fortunate though, at least it felt like that. He received help and successfully recovered. All of them even had a celebration that day, with Kyung buying an over-sized chicken bucket and a ton of soda (no beer, since they actually wanted to remember the event), and pigged out. It was great. One of those few times he genuinely had fun, and not just masking it with a smile and crinkled eyes.

 

Those were great times.

 

He felt his mood slip again. He really wants to be happy, not just rarely happy, but that all-around jumping-for-joy-because-he-feels-like-it happiness. Even though Jiho knew that realistically, that’s not how it’d go, but you get the picture.

 

That begs the question, does he really deserve happiness? Does anyone deserve it? He certainly felt undeserving, but his brain-- there he was again, going in circles. He literally had this same thought cycle at least an hour ago, then again he most likely thought the same things days before, weeks before, and so on.

 

Jiho really can’t see himself spending years like this, but he doesn’t want to die either, at least not yet.

 

Where does the madness end? Where does even begin?

 

He was really, in all honestly, driving himself crazy.

 

All he wanted was for his unbearable days to be, more bearable-- but even that he was a failure at up-keeping.

 

Even his most buoyant days felt guilt ridden and trampled upon; never enjoyable in the least, with that constant overshadowing of fear smoking his mind, it was no mystery why everything was so cloudy for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh, so this was supposed to be a drabble, but it ended up being a little longer.


End file.
